Inevitable
by swancharmings
Summary: "It is easier to be in love in a room with closed doors. To have the whole world in one room, in one person. The universe condensed and intensified and burning, bright and alive and electric. But doors cannot stay closed forever." — Erin Morgenstern (The Starless Sea) Harvey and Donna and the ways they love each other.


**Note:**_For Roselle and Lamia, who have claimed this as The Darvey Quote. Please let me know what you think! :)_

_i. it is easier to be in love in a room with closed doors._

That first time, their first time, after her door _snicks_ shut there is no space for anything else but the two of them. Whispered words and soft sighs fill the room like the rushing tide, the ebb and flow captivating and exhilarating.

They had a feeling it would be like this. Effortless. Easy. _Happy. _They are so in sync in every other aspect of their lives, and why should this be different?

There are no consequences within these four walls, no uncertainties, only a comforting hum of _this is right where we are supposed to be._

_ii. to have the whole world in one room. in one person._

They never speak of it again, at her request. Because as much as she wanted him, _wants_ him, in _that_ way and in every way, their relationship is sacred and if Harvey isn't ready, and this is all he can give her right now, then she will take it.

And their days are still effortless and familiar, in a way that reassures her they will be okay. They're still Harvey and Donna, nothing has changed.

Or so she tells herself.

They smile, they drink, they flirt. They talk and laugh and grow together, forming a bond so deep that their souls merge as one, trust and devotion weaving together like a loom.

It's always easiest when it's just the two of them. To pretend that they have everything, even when they don't.

_iii. the universe condensed and intensified and burning, bright and alive and electric._

They fight, too — they say things to hurt, to heal, to tear down walls and to construct new ones. Digging into the parts of each other they bare to no one else, the excavations ultimately bringing them closer.

Through it all, they are blinded like the other is the sun. They can't look at what's there, directly in front of them, for too long or scrutinize it too close or they fear what they have built will scorch and burn.

But she is his focal point, and he is hers. There are moments where they shift away on their elliptical orbits but always find their way back, driven by a force much stronger than gravity.

_iv. but doors cannot stay closed forever._

Relationships come and go, none lasting long enough to even attempt to untangle the ties that bind them.

Paula Agard slashes the ropes and tugs at the seams.

They are both left breathless, swimming in the uncertainties, this wedge between them new and unexpected.

It throws her, this thought that Harvey is no longer hers; he never was, and she knows it, but _knowing _it and _feeling _it are two separate things.

He always felt like hers.

So when she kisses him, latches onto him like a lifeline, she is desperately trying to hold onto what they have, what they could have. What she always thought they _would _have.

_I just had to know._

But Harvey calls her out on it and she is quick to defend, shut him out, fear crawling through her once more of losing him and she can't lose him. Not now. If she can't have all of him she needs to keep a part of him. So she lies, says she doesn't feel anything.

Harvey struggles with the way his heart beats for her, in a way it never has and never will for anyone else, and wonders how they ended up here. How later, she's in his office listening to his dad's records, her lipstick on his tumbler, imprinted there just like she's imprinted on every aspect of his life. How he doesn't know where he ends and she begins.

Harvey ends it with Paula when he realizes there is no chance in hell he can ever cut Donna out of his life. When he realizes he never wants to consider that possibility. When he realizes _why._

—

_I just know that he's somebody that I can't seem to figure out how to cut out of me... But the truth is, I don't know if I'll ever be able to._

_And I don't want to,_ Donna finishes the thought as her eyes lock with Harvey's across the threshold of her apartment.

Something clicks in his gaze, and she _knows_.

The ethics trial, the terror she had felt like never before seeping through her veins, the way he put himself on the line for her without hesitation; _with you it's different; _the way she never lost faith in him, not really, not now and not five years ago; _you know I love you, Donna; all the time we've been together_; every glance, every touch, every _should have_ and _could be _and every time it was them, only them, always them. These moments cling together and mesh between them and lead them here, to this moment, inevitably and undoubtedly.

He propels forward and crushes his lips to hers, and she feels like flying.

_Doors cannot stay closed forever._


End file.
